Here With You
by jk-salmeier
Summary: Those we love and leave behind always have a way of finding us, though not always in the way we expect. Harry/Ginny one-shot. Missing moment in DH right before the Silver Doe.


A/N: Big, big thank yous to Andi (hgfan1111) and Mel (mhersheybar) for taking the time to beta this story. Their constructive criticism and encouragement really challenged me to make this story so much better and richer than I anticipated.

If you haven't read Andi's "Brighter Than Sunshine" or Mel's "Battle of Souls" hurry over and read them. They are wonderful pieces of work.

* * *

Here With You

Harry sat guard at the mouth of the tent for the third night in a row. Since their narrow escape from Godric's Hollow, Harry had taken it upon himself to take all the night watch duties, leaving Hermione to watch during the day. He didn't share with Hermione his reasons for the change, but he could see by the concerned looks she gave him that she knew more than she was letting on.

The nightmares were getting far worse and more frequent. He kept the frightening images to himself as best he could, but they had started to take a toll on him. The continual lack of sleep left him achy and his emotions on a tight leash. It didn't help matters that there was never enough food, which meant they were always hungry, and a little short with each other. He usually kept quiet, afraid he might unexpectedly blow up at Hermione.

Sitting there, Harry allowed his mind to wander about the mission Dumbledore had left him. It wasn't going at all the way he expected. The past five months of this search had been spent living in a tent, camping out all over Britain, without the foggiest idea where to head to next. They had only found one horcrux so far, and were clueless as to how to destroy it. Well, not completely clueless, but how were they to get their hands on the real Sword of Gryffindor? The one in Snape's office was a fake and was now at Gringotts, they believed. Merlin only knew where the real one was hiding.

The last time he actually suggested going somewhere it almost got them killed. Godric's Hollow was a mistake from the moment the idea left his lips. He never should have advised they go there. Hermione had assumed the plan to go to the village was to search for the Sword of Gryffindor, and Harry conveniently hadn't corrected her assumption. She didn't know it was his stubborn curiosity at seeing his parents' graves and a yearning to make a connection with them that drove his decision instead. He couldn't tell her he had secretly wanted to see the house where his life had changed forever.

It still bothered him that he still hadn't been completely honest with Hermione in regards to his motives to journey there. The very thought of the absolute danger he had put his best friend in made his stomach roil with guilt.

Godric's Hollow wasn't the wisest choice.

Look where it got them, still no sword and now a broken wand. Harry reached up and touched the mokeskin pouch hanging around his neck. It contained many of his treasures, most importantly, the broken remains of his holly phoenix-core wand.

Harry shook his head in defeat. This whole thing was impossible. How was he to know where to go next? He wanted to run as far away as he could from this task. He wanted to chuck it all and give it to someone else, but who? There _was_ no one else but him. _He_ was the one chosen by the prophecy. _He_ was the one who was marked. There was no way out of this. It was up to him to end it.

Harry picked up a rock and heaved it in frustration. He was tired of the fighting, of everything in his life being a struggle. Life never seemed to go his way. The one time he thought Life had finally given him a break was when he was with Ginny.

It had been the best twenty days of his life. Every free period Ginny was supposed to be spending revising was spent with him under the beech tree near the lake. They tried revising together, but more times than not, they never once opened their books. He could still remember how sweet her lips had tasted. How did she do that? His face broke into a small smile as he remembered one particular conversation with her at Hogwarts.

_They settled in their usual spot. Ginny sat on his lap resting her head in the crook of his neck. Harry liked it when she sat on his lap. Her gentle weight relaxed him in a way he couldn't explain. He took a deep breath enjoying the flowery scent of her beautiful hair._

_These brief interludes outside always began with Ginny on his lap and ended with them laying on the grass snogging. But today seemed different, she lingered on his lap longer than usual and clung to him a little tighter. She kept fidgeting in his arms like she was trying to relax, but failing miserably._

"_Ginny what happened today? Are you alright?" Harry asked, gently stroking small circles on her back. Harry knew Ginny had been studying like crazy these past couple of weeks. Her dedication to her studies started to strain on her body. Faint dark circles appeared under her once bright brown eyes, not to mention her temper was very short these days. _

"_Sorry I yelled at you earlier. I guess I'm still a little worked up from my meeting with Professor McGonagall."_

_Harry searched his brain as to why a meeting with their Head of House could have sparked such agitation in his girlfriend. After a couple of minutes it dawned on him that fifth-years always had meetings with their Heads of House to discuss future careers._

"_Career advice meeting?" he asked placing a kiss on her forehead. _

"_Yes," she whispered, her head remaining in the crook of his neck. "I don't want to talk about it just yet."_

"_Okay, but I know something else we can do besides talk."_

"_I know you do. You and your one track mind," she lightly chuckled and playfully slapped his arm. "Just hold me for now, please."_

"_Of course." Harry held her to him a little tighter. He didn't like to see Ginny so troubled, but he didn't want to press the issue. She would share with him what happened at her meeting when she was ready. For now, he felt the best thing he could do was hold her until she sorted through her thoughts. _

_  
They sat in companionable silence listening to the gentle lapping of the lake and the sing-song chirping of the birds. The affects of his embrace must have worked because after a couple of minutes she stopped fidgeting. She lifted her head and gazed into Harry's eyes. She gently fingered his cheek and smiled, not a mischievous smile, but one of affection and contentment. She kissed him softly, slowly tickling the roof of his mouth with her tongue. He responded by doing the same, and the next thing he knew he was laying on the grass with her on top of him. They stayed tangled in each other's arms until the necessity for oxygen broke the kiss. Harry found her still smiling at him.  
_

"_Feeling better?" Harry asked reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear._

"_Yes, thank you. I always feel better when I'm with you." _

_  
"So what happened with McGonagall?"_

_  
Her smile faded taking on a serious expression. She sat up and leaned against the tree truck tearing handfuls of grass around her. _

"_Harry if I tell you, do you promise not tell any of my brothers or my parents?"_

_  
Harry sat up next to her, took her hand in his and squeezed it. _

"_I promise."_

"_I want to play Quidditch…professionally." She looked at him intently waiting for his response._

_  
__A strange sort of pride swelled him at the thought of his girlfriend playing Quidditch professionally. Ginny was a great flyer and an exceptional Chaser. Her career choice suited her perfectly. Convincing her mother was another story altogether, but they'd worry about that later._

"_Ginny, that's brilliant!" _

"_Really?" she asked. "You don't think its lame that I want to play Quidditch?"_

"_Not at all, it's fantastic, so did McGonagall try to talk you out of it when you told her?"_

"_No, not exactly," she hesitated, tearing fresh blades of grass from the ground. "I panicked and told her I wanted to be a Healer. Now she and Hermione won't shut up about O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. and how important it is for me to have 10 each."_

_  
Harry laughed._

"_It's not funny." Ginny scolded, a smile betraying her irritation._

"_Well there's only one thing left to do. C'mon." ordered Harry, tugging her up to a standing position and leading her briskly by the hand away from the lake._

"_Harry, what are you doing? I can't tell McGonagall the truth." Ginny stopped walking and jerked her hand from his._

_  
"We're not going to McGonagall," he assured, taking her hand and kissing it. "We're going to the pitch."_

"_Why?" _

"_So we can start your training, of course. Those Quidditch scouts won't know what hit them when I'm through with you." _

_  
Harry led Ginny by the hand to the Quidditch pitch, her contagious laughter echoing throughout the grounds._

He knew why that conversation had stood out so vividly in his mind. It was at that moment, sitting by the lake with Ginny in his arms talking about careers, that he realized he could happily do that for the rest of his life. It was the first time in his life he looked forward to a forever with her. And the best part was Ginny had shared a part of herself with him, and _only_ him. She trusted him with something so precious and personal, it was the best gift she could have given him. He never did tell anyone, not even Ron or Hermione, what she had shared with him that day.

His smile faded, and with it the happy memory of their time together at Hogwarts. Reality had caught up with them at a vicious pace. Two days later Dumbledore was murdered at the top of the Astronomy Tower, and Harry was forced to choose between his happiness and her safety. He sacrificed, like he always did, and chose to keep her safe, because it was the right thing to do.

He picked up another rock, this time put his weight behind it, and threw harder. He watched with satisfaction as it bounced off a tree.

"Harry?" Hermione said sitting down next to him. "Why don't you get some rest? I can do this."

"It's okay. Go back to bed."

"Harry, at least lay down for a couple of hours, I don't mind."

"I'm fine, really. Go back to bed." He tried extremely hard to keep his voice even. Somehow he knew she had rehearsed this conversation.

"Harry you can't keep this up…"

"Hermione, I'm _fine_," he answered cutting her off, nettled at her badgering. He knew she was right. He needed rest, but lately every time he closed his eyes a giant snake was lunging towards him with its fangs wide open ready to strike, or he was back at the cave with an unconscious Dumbledore surrounded by white bodies with sunken, sightless eyes that clutched his wrists and dragged him down into the icy water. Just last night he was back at the Chamber kneeling over a pale, motionless Ginny, trying desperately to revive her when she opened her eyes and spoke in a flat voice - 'You said I'd be safe, Harry'. Every night it was a different nightmare, bringing with it the same suffocating feeling of anxiety and helplessness.

Hermione sat next to him with her face turned away from him. He chanced a look at her and saw her wiping tears from her face. He didn't mean to make her cry, but she wouldn't let it go. A fresh wave of guilt swept over him, settling in the pit of his stomach.

"Hermione, I'm-"

"If…if you change your mind, let me know, "she sniffed and walked to her bed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Harry said keeping his eyes straight ahead. He could hear the springs of the bed creak as she laid down.

As the night went on, the frosty air stung his face and pressed on his chest with every breath he took. The bitter cold seeped through his insufficient layers of clothes making his very bones and muscles scream in agony. It was impossible to think of anything else except how cold he was, and for one fleeting moment he welcomed the change. But the brief respite from the guilt and self loathing wasn't worth staying so cold. Quickly growing tired of the frigid conditions he shifted his position once more to try and get warm, but it was no use. He needed more layers.

Harry briefly left his post to rummage through his pile of clothes, pulling out every jumper he owned. In this collection he found an unfamiliar pale blue one neatly folded. It looked way too small for him. He thought it might be Hermione's so he put it aside to give to her later. It wouldn't be the first time they mixed up their clothes; once Harry had found a pair of Hermione's jeans in with his. Another time Hermione's pants got wrapped up with Ron's boxers. Harry's face broke into a small smile as he remembered the horrified looks on both their faces. But just as quickly as the smile came it left as Harry remembered, with a jolt, that Ron was gone.

Once Harry had on all the jumpers, he grabbed the small pale blue one, thinking he could use it as a makeshift pillow. He stationed himself back at the tent opening and rapidly began to rub his hands over his arms trying to produce enough friction to make his body warm. He huddled in his spot, folding his knees to his chest for warmth, and wadded up the folded blue jumper in the crook of his neck. The wool was very soft against his face.

After a couple of hours, sleep deprivation started to take over. The cold and velvety blackness of the forest played tricks with his dulling senses. Every noise was heighted, every shadow was a possible intruder, and for a split second, he could have sworn he smelled a familiar, flowery scent. He fought to keep his heavy and weary eyes opened. However, the drowsiness won and Harry dozed off.

He awoke with a start at the sound of rustling and the snapping of twigs. Someone was close. Someone had found them. As he looked closer that someone's flaming red hair seemed to stand out in the blackness of the forest. Whoever had come was now winding their way through the thick trees. Gripping Hermione's wand in his hand, Harry followed the figure in quick pursuit through the trees and into a clearing. It was the only bright spot in the dark forest. The light from the flames of a fire suddenly assaulted his eyes, making it difficult to see. Blinking harshly to let his eyes adjust to the light, Harry almost fell on his knees when he saw _his_ Ginny sitting on a blanket contently minding the fire.

Harry couldn't move or breathe at first. He just stared at her with wide eyes. She was so beautiful, her face glowing like an angel in the firelight. The light from the flames danced off the rich copper hues of her vivid hair, framing her pale face. The black cloak she was wearing seemed to swallow her up, but she looked warm and comfortable sitting alone by the fire.

Hypnotized by her beauty, he slowly crossed the clearing toward her. _What was she doing here?_ _How did she find them?_ Before Harry could ask her any of his questions, she spotted him. She ran to him with her famous blazing look and enveloped him in a desperate hug.

As soon as her soft, warm lips touched his, Harry was in heaven. Nothing else mattered but the beautiful girl in front of him. Her tongue flitted softly along his lips seeking to deepen the kiss. Harry obliged by slowly opening his mouth and both their tongues danced in happy reunion. She tasted so sweet, like she always did of strawberries and honey. Her arms remained around his neck, her hands getting frequently lost in his hair. He moved his own hands along the small of her back, drawing her closer to him.

Harry began to feel lightheaded from lack of air, but he didn't want to stop kissing Ginny. He missed her, every bit of her. The feel of her lips on his when they kissed. Her gentle touch as she ran her fingers through his hair. The captivating flowery scent that was uniquely hers – all of it was here with him. He was no longer alone. She had found him. But _how_ did she find him? Something was wrong. His heart, already hammering hard against his ribs, was now threatening to pop out of his chest. What was she thinking coming here by herself? It wasn't safe for her to be here. He broke the kiss and gazed into her bright brown eyes, his hands still resting on the small of her back.

She smiled up at him meeting his gaze. Her eyes kept alternating between his eyes and his lips wanting more.

"Ginny, how…what are you doing here?" Harry panted.

The question didn't seem to faze her. She gave him a rather knowing look, as if the answer were obvious.

"I've always been here," she answered kissing his neck and then moving to his lips.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in her kiss. But his brain started to process her answer to very unsatisfying results. It didn't make any sense. How could she have always been here? Harry pulled away from her, breaking the kiss.

"I don't understand. What do you mean you've always been here?"

"Harry, I've always been here," Ginny whispered, caressing the back of his neck playfully with her fingers, "with you."

At her touch, Harry understood the sweet and terrible truth of this encounter. The biting cold returned to his body as it sagged under the realization. This wasn't real. She wasn't real, which meant-

"This is a dream," he said more to himself than to her.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the moment while it lasts," Ginny said, lifting his chin up to look at him. She had an impish smile on her face. "Cheer up, Harry we don't have much time. Come sit by the fire and get warm."

She led him by the hand to a blanket, and he sat down facing the fire, allowing the flames to warm his face and numb limbs. She took off her cloak and placed it across his front like a blanket. He noticed she was wearing a pale blue jumper with a chocolate brown 'G' on it. Her dark indigo jeans hugged her in all the right places.

"Aren't you cold?" Harry asked.

"Not at all," she answered. "Now just relax."

He closed his eyes willing his tense muscles to unclench, but to no avail. Asking him to relax was asking for the impossible.

"I don't think I can."

"Allow me to help you" she volunteered, planting a gentle kiss on his neck that sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

She sat behind him and began kneading the knots out of his shoulders. Her small hands powerfully working their way from his shoulders all the way down his spine and up again to his neck. Each movement was slow and deliberate. The warmth of her touch penetrated through the layers of clothes, warming his skin and bones. It was the best feeling in the world.

"Better?" Ginny asked softly in his ear resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him.

"Yes," he breathed leaning into her embrace allowing its soothing effects to encompass every part of him.

"Good."

They sat in comfortable silence staring at the dancing flames of the campfire. The warmth of the fire and the security of Ginny's arms around him started to make Harry drowsy. Sensing his exhaustion, Ginny moved aside and lightly pushed him back onto the blanket. He obeyed the pressure and lay down, using his right arm as a pillow. Ginny lay beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. She draped her left arm around him and held him tightly.

"Rest Harry, you'll feel better," she said quietly.

He was definitely enjoying this moment with her. Dreaming of Ginny was his favorite pastime. It beat the usual playlist of nightmares that came every night, tearing him away from a restful sleep. He didn't want this moment with her to end, even as he knew it would have to, and he would be back in that cold forest facing the reality of a mission gone horribly wrong. This thought made him tense up again.

"Harry, what's wrong."

"Nothing," he said flatly, trying not to choke on the lump now resting in his throat.

"Harry, you're lying. What is it?" she asked, moving her head to look at him. She began to caress his face with the back of her hand.

All pretenses of keeping on a brave face vanished at her touch. The fears and concerns he had ever had of this quest filled his mind and spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Ginny. It's all gone wrong. Ron left. Hermione won't stop crying. My wand…broke. I…I'm gonna get us all killed," Harry blurted out, his eyes firmly closed. He couldn't bear to see the disappointment on her face at his confession.

He could feel her soft hand soothingly wipe the tears cascading down his cheeks he hadn't realized had fallen.

"Shh. Don't talk like that. You know exactly what you're doing," she consoled. "They trust you, and so did Dumbledore. Don't worry about Ron. He'll come back, you'll see."

"I don't know. He seemed pretty angry. I…I said some things I shouldn't have said," he continued still with his eyes closed.

"Harry, we all say things that we regret, especially in the heat of the moment. But he'll come back."

He opened his eyes to look at her and found her smiling at him. There was such confidence in that bright smile of hers but he was still unsure.

"How do you know?"

"He's your best friend, and he loves you," she said as if the answer were that obvious.

Harry nodded instead of arguing with her. He admired the unwavering faith she had in her brother; he just wished he could be as sure.

"You know Ron can be thick about things sometimes," she added, as Harry remembered an incident with the Goblet of Fire, and the temporary wedge it drove between them. "But he believes in you and this mission. Now rest, Harry, you'll feel better." She kissed his cheek and rested her head back onto his shoulder, while her free hand delicately stroked his chest.

The gentle sensation of her touch began to make his eyelids heavy with sleep.

Harry closed his eyes and held her tightly to him snaking his free arm around her waist. He felt truly safe for the first time in months, and finally allowed sleep to wash over him. It may have been only a couple of minutes, or maybe an hour, but the length of time wasn't nearly long enough.

"Harry, wake up," she whispered, brushing his fringe with her fingers and kissing his forehead.

"Mumph?"

"Harry, open your eyes; you must wake up," Ginny insisted.

"But I don't want to wake up. I want to stay here with you." Harry pleaded, holding onto her tightly, burying his face in her sweet smelling hair.

"And I with you, but you must wake up now," she urged, pulling out of his embrace and hoisting him up to his feet with astonishing strength. Once they were both standing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Harry kissed her back with such surprising urgency that she gave a light moan.

He didn't want to let her go. He didn't want to go back to the cold unknown of his search and this war, but he had no choice.

They stood holding each other, their foreheads touching affectionately.

"Come back again," he whispered. "Please, I can't do this alone."

"You're never alone, Harry. Remember I've always been here with you. Now wake up, Harry. Wake up."

She leaned in to kiss him and he felt her lips touch his one last time.

Harry slowly opened his eyes. It had been the most wonderful dream he'd had in months. Closing his eyes, he allowed the highlights to replay itself in his mind's eye. Ginny was here. He thought he could still feel the warmth of her lips on his. Inhaling a lungful of air, he caught a whiff of a familiar flowery scent. Harry sat up a little straighter and something fell on his lap.

He looked down and found, in a crumpled heap, the folded pale blue jumper he was using as a pillow. His heart began to beat hard against his ribcage. 'No, it can't be the same jumper', he thought to himself. He picked it up slowly and began to unfold it. Sure enough, it had a chocolate brown 'G' in the center.

"I've always been here with you," Ginny's voice echoed in his head.

Slowly Harry held the jumper to his nose to breathe in the familiar scent again. Ginny really had been with him this whole time, some part of her at least. The warmth he felt from the dream returned at the very thought of her. It filled him from the inside out, slowly melting away the dread and self doubt that once ruled his thoughts so freely. The weight of his destiny still rested on his shoulders, but for the first time in a long time, it was manageable, almost welcome. It was what he was used to, carrying a burden that hinged on his success and survival. It wouldn't be easy, but nothing in his life was ever easy. But seeing Ginny, though it was only a dream, buoyed his hope to the surface, shrouding the fear and panic of what was yet to come.

Harry gingerly folded the jumper and walked over to his bed, placing the jumper reverently under his pillow. He walked back to the tent opening to resume his watch when a bright silver doe moving through the trees caught his attention.


End file.
